A visit from an unwelcomed stranger
by CyberchaseKing
Summary: A middle aged woman is kept prisoner within the basement of her North Malden home in Massachusetts by a man that her husband owes a lot of money to. Was her husbands business trip truly a business trip or an escape from the loan shark?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Tears came crashing down my innocent face.**

There I sat, crouched in the broom closet under the stairs, like a coward. The reality hadn't hit me immediately that I may die tonight. My husband was in San Diego, while I was in my home in North Malden. I could hear the mysterious stranger rummaging through the hutch in the dining room, my grandmother's priceless china clashing to the floor. Tears were streaming down my face but I knew I could not allow myself to be heard as this man was not here for looting purposes. He was either after me or my husband. It was a joke between me and my friends that Stephen was part of some kind of mafia or something because he always came home with precious pieces of jewelry to show his appreciation towards me, especially after we lost the baby.

The strange man was coming closer and closer. He turned left into the hallway, and headed for the stairs. He was climbing, going higher and higher. This was my opportunity to escape someplace safe and call for help. He approached the first landing. I knew because of the unmistakable squeak it made every time I climbed up that staircase. He stopped and stood there for a second. Dust came falling from the ceiling of the broom cabinet. I couldn't help it. I had to cough and that's what I did. As I tried to free myself from the irritation in my throat as quietly as I could, he remained on that same step. He was worrying me. What was he thinking? Why was he standing there like a dumbstruck shit? After what felt like an eternity, he finally proceeded up the stairway. I heard the smash of a glass object and I peered out of the cabinet. The light in the upstairs hallway had been turned off. I creped out of the cabinet and as quietly as I could, I made my way for the phone in the kitchen. I picked up the AT&T cordless phone and was suddenly unsure of who to call. I guess the "9-1-1" stickers the fire department sent to us would have been beneficial, after all. I began dialing for emergency services. "9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?" responded a woman. She sounded so calm, calm as day, unlike the state I was in, a state of shock, unsure of what would happen next. "There is a strange man, dressed all in black, a ski mask and… a loaded gun." "Okay madam, please stay calm." I tried and tried not to allow myself into hysterics where it may call attention from the man upstairs. "Madam, we are having problems with our caller identification system, please confirm your address and stay calm." From the corner of my peripheral vision, I saw a shadow coming down the servant staircase in the kitchen. "Who the fucks are you on the fucking phone with!?" "Who are you on the phone with, lady!?" He slowly walked over and threw the base of the phone on the floor of the new tile kitchen floor. "Lady, if somebody comes here and or if you inconvenience me in any way shape or form, your ass is dead! Do you comprhendo!?" He exclaimed. I knew that wasn't real Spanish but I was in no position to argue with a man with a loaded gun to my temple. "Have a seat, lady" he ordered. He made his way to the junk drawer, after rummaging through all the silverware drawers. He found some duck tape and began covering my mouth with it. I squirmed and fought but I was no match for a man who was at least six feel tall; I was merely five feet tall. He taped my wrists together so that my arms were behind my back and I was seated on a chair. He lifted the chair, with no effort and brought me to the basement. I tried to yell for somebody to help me but not a soul could hear me with the state was in. I was all on my own. The computer couldn't locate where I was, nor could the police. I was done fore. It's the end, I though. The only visible emotion I could reveal were the salty tears running down my face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Whoever said "there's no-place like home" was dead wrong.**

The stranger and I sat at the kitchen table. We exchanged few looks and every time I attempted to get a good image of his facial characteristics into my memory, he scolded me and slapped my wrist with a large spoon, the one I had bought at Sandy's Pampered Chef party last fall. I tried to be strong. My father would be ashamed of me. He didn't believe in crying. He was never there for me and my sister, Kim. Work was always his excuse. I was unsure of a lot of things, question after question racing through my sensitive mind. Why was he still here? Why didn't he just take what he wanted and leave me the hell alone? Was this burglary targeted or random? I would never know, nor did I have much interest to explore for answers. It was a struggle for me to breath in all. I had asthma and he was blocking my airway through my mouth.

As I sat in the kitchen chair, wheezing my face began to get red and puffy. "Bitch, why does your damn face look like a friggin' cherry, dumbass?" I was feeling faint, I needed my inhaler but I could not communicate with duck tape on my face. I started to get light headed and was unable to support my head on my shoulders. Luckily enough, he noticed and pulled the duck tape off and asked "Bitch, get your shit together or we're gonna have problems, ight?" I could barely speak but managed to get "In..haler, now." He just sat there, cackling at me like some crazy, insane person. I felt myself lifting above the room by the lamp and the ceiling fan I used in late August. I saw my lifeless body occupying the body I had previously inhabited for twenty-nine years. The man was getting crazier by the second. He took the metal spoon and started smacking my face with it. Although I could no longer feel it, I wanted to reach down and grab the spoon from the shit-head's hand. I could see him starting to panic. For some reason, he didn't want me dead. He threw my body to the ground and started to perform CPR on my unresponsive body. I felt myself jolt; I was being sucked back into by body; like when I use the vacuum cleaner to clean the living room carpet. I was afraid to re-enter my body, unsure of what he planned to do. I opened my eyes and there he was glaring at me.

He was pulling my duck tape from my arms, freeing me from my seat at the kitchen table. I didn't dare to stand on my two legs. I was unsure if they were asleep from being seated for such a long period and not to mention the gun he had shown me before. He whispered in my ear "You will come with me; you will not make a sound unless instructed to do so. If you see a person of law enforcement you will not look in their direction. Do I make myself clear?" "No," I shouted. "No," I repeated. He picked up the chair from the floor and whacked me with it. I fell to the ground and I now had no interest to argue with this guy. We walked on the back door, single file. His grip was tight and made me feel uncomfortable. He brought me over to Oak Grove Station on the Orange Line Subway and instructed me to purchase a Charlie ticket. "Why don't you buy it yourself?!" I argued. "Because, I have my reasons." He responded. I wondered what this meant. Was he covering up his tracks or was he just being stingy and didn't feel like spending money on the freakin' train fare? He inserted his Charlie ticket and proceeded through the fare gate. He glared at me, waiting for me to do the same and so we could proceed to the train to god knows where he would take me. I wasn't prepared to allow this to happen. I decided to book-it. I didn't go through the fare gate. I ran down through the station as the stranger stood there dumbstruck for a second and took a few seconds to get back out. By that time, I was already down the stairs toward Pleasant Street. Luckily for me, the 132 bus to Stoneham was just leaving. I ran after it and the bus driver swung the doors open. "Get in, I'm late." He grumbled as he shut the doors behind me. I had no idea what the stranger would do next. I had no idea if he was familiar with this bus route, if he would somehow find a way to track me down. I was all on my own, trying to find a way to a permanent escape from the psycho.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**There's no escape, not even on the T.**

I sat in the front of the bus, adjacent to the bus driver. I looked over at him and occasionally he looked at me, as if he knew something was wrong. "Lady, you all right?" he questioned me, not in a manner that seemed he was concerned. No, that would be too sympathetic for this "gentleman." "Yes, everything is fine, thanks." I lied as I griped my teeth together. I was more nervous and paranoid than I had ever been before. Every rattle, brake squeal, stop announcement made me jump. Maybe I was a basket case, of course I was, I was being hunted down closer and closer, every second that goes by.

We were backed up in traffic in Wyoming Square, Melrose. The traffic from the train was holding up everyone and I started sweating profusely. It was really gross but I had visions of the stranger coming up to the bus window and tapping, making his presence know. It seemed like a never-ending amount of people exiting that train. I hadn't taken the commuter rail since I was in the eighth grade. I can remember because of the bad experience I had there. My two friends and I attempted to go into Boston on a Saturday. However, they were working on scheduled maintenance on the train tracks between Haymarket Station and Oak Grove Station. There were two choices. Take the shuttle bus or the commuter rail. The commuter rail was free for that trip and the people on it reflected the price. Low and behold was a crazy person that sat right behind us. At first he started asking us if we had any chewing gum, if he could borrow a quarter. Then he started getting more and more inappropriate. He started telling us how beautiful the three of us were, that he wanted to do us and shit like that. Then he started to grab my sholder and made his way down to my breast. I yelled for him to stop but he continued. I yelled louder and louder but the conductor just looked at the two of us in shock. Luckily a policeman was aboard the train. "Move out of the way!" he yelled to everyone who had gotten up to see what the commotion was. He grabbed the man, through him to the ground and brought him in for prosecution. I will never forget that day. I thought that was the worst day of my life. However, I was quite wrong. This may just be the worst day of my life.

By now, the commuter rail had moved out of Wyoming Station and we were finally able to move again. We made our way down West Wyoming Avenue, toward the Stone Zoo by Pond Street. We were right in front of the stone zoo when my fear had collided straight into reality. A man with a ski mask was standing in the middle of the divided roadway, on our side. I was screwed. He was coming to get me. The bus came to a screeching halt and then he pulled his gun out and pointed it at the bus driver. "Drive, drive!!!" I screamed at him as I ducked to the floor. "He's dangerous, he'll kill you even if you let me go, just run him over!" I exclaimed. "You sure about this lady?" He asked with a lot of hesitation to the tone of his voice. "Yes, he will kill every last one of us!" I yelled back. The driver started to tap the gas peddle when he got shot by the stranger in the right shoulder. "Ouch, shit!" he yelled. I dragged him out of the seat and put him on the seat adjacent to the driver's seat. I seated by self in and floored it. "Damn it!" I yelled as he reached safety just in time. I was the new driver. I was all over the road, I could barely control it. I got just past the intersection with Friendly's when I lost control. I steered straight into the woods. I was scared and unsure what to do next. I quivered in the woods like a small child afraid of the boogeyman, unsure of what my next best move was.


End file.
